The cure for the summertime blues

On my way back from a meeting today, I stopped at a gas station and was subjected to one of the subtle horrors of summer: big people in little clothes.

In this case, it was a large woman filling up her car at one of the pumps; her back was to me and she was holding on to a floppy straw hat with her other hand (it was warm and windy today). She wore a pair of bib overalls and nothing else. And shoes, she probably wore shoes, but I didn’t look that far down. I was too turned off by the rolls of flesh spilling out over that frayed denim.

Don't get me wrong. I love all of God's creatures—or most of them, at least. I can do without insects that bite or are larger and hairier than they have any right to be. And I, personally, can find beauty in just about anything. It’s situational and it goes both ways. Anyone can look beautiful in certain light, at certain angles or when they laugh. Likewise, a supermodel can easily look hideous if she’s yelling at a child, digging out a stubborn booger or kicking a hungry kitten out of her path.

However, there are certain universal guidelines you should follow no matter who you are, how old you may be or what you look like, and one of those is: dress according to your body type. I'm not saying you have to put a bag over your head, wear a Snuggie everywhere or anything ridiculous like that but if, for example, it looks like your ass crack goes all the way up to your neck, you should probably put on a t-shirt. No matter how hot and windy it is.

I offer the same courtesy. When it's hot, I wear long shorts to cover my spindly legs and, usually, socks to hide the warped yellowish talons that my toes have turned into. I tuck in my shirt so the laser burn from where I had my tramp stamp removed doesn't gross anyone out and, when my neck goiter is particularly pink and throbbing, I'll wear a shirt with a collar—even though it feels like sandpaper against the inflamed peak. It's the least I can do.

"You throw the ball; you catch the ball..."

Well, the Detroit Tigers are about to start the second half of the season—figuratively, at least—tomorrow.

They go into the series at Baltimore at a disappointing 44-42, in third place, 3.5 games behind the Chicago White Sox and half a game behind the Cleveland Indians—and it took a five-game winning streak against two weaker teams to get there. Eighty-six games into the season, and we still don't know entirely what they are capable of or how this season will end up. All we know for sure is that the race to win this division will be a lot closer than most people predicted.

I'm disappointed in the way things have gone so far, but I'm not entirely surprised. I was in the minority of people who didn't think the Tigers got any better when they signed Prince Fielder to replace the injured Victor Martinez. Even if things had gone the way that everybody expected—that is, that the Tigers would simply pound other clubs into submission—I still didn't think they'd win as many games as they won last year. It's not easy to win 95 games. This is (in brief) why I thought they'd stumble:

The pitching

I had serious concerns about Justin Verlander going into this season. He pitched a ton of innings last year, in the regular season and the playoffs. I thought he would take a step back, in part because of the lack of defense (which I'll get to in a bit) behind him and in part because his arm would show some signs of fatigue. Verlander, by the way, has surprised me. He's had a couple shaky outings, but he's been as good as last year and, with five complete games in the book already, will at least be in the Cy Young discussion at the end of the season.

The bullpen couldn't realistically be as good as it was last year, when the Tigers were undefeated when they had the lead in the 7th inning. Jose Valverde, a big reason for that, didn't blow a save all season and that kind of success is virtually impossible in today's game. On his own, he'd account for a few more losses this year.

The defense

When the season started, we were looking at the prospect of a sub-standard fielding first baseman, third baseman and second baseman combined with a short stop with limited range. Centerfield and, perhaps, catcher were the only bright spots on the field. I've always appreciated speed and defense in baseball, so I wasn't expecting to like to watch this team too much, at all.

There have been surprises here, as well. Notably Miguel Cabrera, who hasn't been anywhere near as bad at third as people thought he would be.

The hitting

Yeah, I still had concerns about the lineup. I didn't think Martinez could be replaced—I didn't think even he could duplicate his rare ability to get clutch hits last year. The 2011 season was the last time I could remember feeling confident when the Tigers had runners in scoring position with two outs. V-Mart was outstanding in those situations.

Sure, I figured Fielder would hit. I knew Cabrera would hit. I hoped Austin Jackson would find a groove somewhere between his rookie season and last year. I thought Brennan Boesch, too, would settle in and be more consistent; I thought they were both good for a .280 average with occasional extra base power. I didn't expect Johnny Peralta to duplicate his 2011 season at the plate, nor Delmon Young to continue to hit for average and power.

Some of those fears and concerns have played out, and some have been proved unfounded. Where does that leave us?

I don't know. Hopeful, for sure. Optimistic? Maybe. The Tigers are facing a deficit that is not overwhelming, by any means. Many teams have overcome a larger deficit in a shorter period of time, but those teams have also had the good fortune to have the teams they were chasing stumble a bit, too. The White Sox look like they are coming together, too, and they had the advantage at this point.

The Tigers have the potential to make a run and win the division, but they have no room left for error. Thirteen of their next 14 opponents have a record of .500 or better and the Tigers essentially need to win each of those series to earn their second consecutive division crown. They have to be consistent, and they've shown an inability to do that thus far. They have the best pitcher in baseball in Verlander, one of the best hitters in the game in Cabrera and, while I hope I'm wrong, I don't think this is their year.

"You won't get wise with the sleep still in your eyes..."

When I first set out to write The Prankster's Reward, I had a target of 120,000 words.

One of my main gripes about fantasy fiction is that it tends to take a writer 10 years and three or four 1,000 page books to tell a story and I didn't want to do that--not yet, anyway. I wanted to write a relatively compact adventure tale that would leave readers craving more but wouldn't take such a huge investment of time to get to the end.

More than eight months later, the novel is done. It comes in at about 85,000 words, which means my initial word count was fairly accurate. It will take a lot of work to make it even readable enough to get someone else's opinion on it. Most of that work will be in adding depth to the characters and providing the backstory to the things I revealed in the final chapter and epilogue.

I've learned quite a few things along the way, particularly in the last month, when I declared my own personal 'writing Waterloo' and told myself that if I didn't get any consistency in my writing, do it with any discipline at all, then I was just going to quit and admit that life had won. The goal was impossible. Save yourself the frustration and spend more time with the family. Perhaps you can take something away from my struggles.

First, I am too hard on myself. Looking back, it's amazing that I was able to finish it at all, giving everything that was going on in my life. A battle with blood sugar, documented here. The impending foreclosure (or, hopefully, short sale) of my house, which I've written about here under the tag 'the third miracle.' The care and recent passing of my father to early onset Alzheimer's. It is okay to let things like this eat into your time, but it is not okay to let them defeat. All things pass and, as Winston Churchill once said: If you're going through hell, keep going.

Second, I allowed my own story to drag on to the point where even I got bored with it. If you're not invested in something you're writing, how can the reader be? Henry David Thoreau, a guy who knew a thing or two about writing, advises us to 'strike while the iron is hot.' A writer who tries to tell his story after the passion has faded is like trying to iron a shirt with a cold brick. Or something to that effect.

As romantic and cool as it may sound to say you can write something as you go along, the reality is that it's a lot more practical to plan things out ahead of time. That way, a plot point that you suddenly think about in chapter 21 doesn't require writing chapters 3-17. When I go back to edit this novel--and by edit, I mean rewrite--I'll do it the right way. I'll have a full outline. Character sketches. Back stories. I will set up a desk in my garage, beyond the reach of my wifi, and close the door to all distractions.

And go back I will. Write I will. For at the end of myWaterloo, I had an 18-12 record for days writing vs. days non-writing, and I know can improve on that. It doesn't matter what's going on in your life. Your dreams are still out there, waiting patiently.